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***Chapter Five***
When Dion woke up in the morning, something felt different. It only now occurred to him that ever since life had started to go awry, there had been a weight on his shoulders. It had always felt like life was trying to grind him into the ground. Try as he would to keep standing and forging forward, it had always felt like something was draining him every second of every day. Now, however, he felt light as a feather. The weight that had been chained to his back all this time was now gone.
When Dion tried to stretch, he became aware of the other occupant on his bed. Memories of the previous night flowed into his mind as he opened his eyes to regard the fiery red skin of the demoness he was currently big-spooning. Dion didn't know whether it was by design, or simply that she didn't care either way, but he was still stark naked. She hadn't put his clothes back on him after she was done with her ritual.
Once again, Dion didn't know whether it was the result of them moving around at night, or because she had consciously put them in the position they were in. Each of his hands, however, was currently holding on to the luscious mounds that were her breasts. And his stiff rod was now comfortably nestled in between her thighs. Dion was hard because of morning wood, not arousal. That, however, changed very quickly as he looked down to find Lythia's ass pressed up against his waist. Right now, all he had to do was pull back slightly, angle upwards, and push forward and he would enter the temptress's innermost sanctum.
As if it had a mind of its own, his hand gave her breast a soft squeeze before it traced its way down her hourglass figure to her waist. Everything within Dion wanted to take the demon right there and then. Another part of him, however, vehemently fought against the first part. Not for any noble reasons, but simply because his ego wouldn't allow it. When the time came that he finally took her, it would be because she submitted to him. To use sneaky means to lose his virginity was beneath him, this part of him thought.
Clenching his jaws, Dion pulled his hand away from her waist and the other one from under her before stepping off the bed. Dion looked regretfully at the sexy demon sprawled out on his bed. A sigh left him as Dion looked down at his hard-on. A look of confusion crossed his expression as he studied his member. Like any other man out there, Dion was intimately familiar with his own dick. And it most certainly wasn't that big when he passed out the night before. A brow arched on his face as he turned to regard the demon. There was no other explanation for how he'd suddenly grown three inches longer and much thicker than he was before. Still, the side of his lips tilted upwards in a smirk as he turned around and walked to the bathroom.
When the door to his room closed behind Dion, Lythia's head rose off the pillow to look at the closed door. "Well, that's a first," She said with a slightly confused, slightly annoyed tone. "Have I lost my touch that much?" She asked herself, unable to believe that a man had walked away from her naked form.
Given how weakened she was, Lythia's initial plan had been to take part in as many orgies as she could orchestrate. With her ability to shape-shift and also to conceal her demonic aura, it would have been all too easy to do it covertly without leaving any traces for her pursuers to follow. After last night and the potent life essence that she had gotten from the boy, however, Lythia found herself thinking that she wouldn't even have to bother. After the initial annoyance was passed, a smile crossed her lips. "They always taste better when they try to play hard to get," She said as she allowed her head to once again rest on the pillow. After thousands of years of meditation on a cold stone floor, the bed came as close to heaven as a being like her would ever get.
When Dion was done showering, he wrapped a towel around himself and stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway only to run into Nadia, his older sister. Like him, she had flame-red hair, a trait they'd inherited from their mother. Unlike his, however, hers reached down to the small of her back. Unlike him, also, her eyes were a chestnut brown like their fathers.
Nadia was a bit small in the bust department, managing only a B cup. But what she lacked in breasts, she more than made up for when it came to her bubble butt. Before today, Dion had never looked at his sister sexually. The outward analysis of her was the simple result of the fact that they lived under the same roof and he wasn't blind. In this moment, however, Dion had to fight the urge to ask her to turn around just so he could appreciate her ass more. The fact that he was currently looking at his sister, didn't escape Dion. For some reason, however, it didn't mean anything to him. Despite their blood relation, his mind registered her as no different from any sexy woman he might meet out in the street.
"Move jackass!" His sister snarled in a waspish tone. Without waiting for him to comply, she moved forward, clearly intending to ram into him on her way into the bathroom. Contrary to what she had expected of her usually meek brother, Dion didn't move. When her shoulder ran into the side of his body, it was like she had run into a wall. Nadia's anger flared and she leaned into the shoulder fully intending to push him aside. But what she had meant to be her dismissal of Dion, morphed into an awkward silence as, despite her best efforts, she couldn't get him to budge even an inch.
Dion's head turned to the side to regard his struggling sister as something clicked in his mind. Watching her struggle, Dion figured something out. Dion was suddenly aware of what weight it was that he'd felt had left his shoulders when he woke up that morning. He no longer cared. The weight on his shoulders that had been growing heavier with each passing day was the care that he had for his family. Every day that he'd had drug-addicted parents and a sister who was slowly dying on the inside, it had weighed heavily on him.
Looking at the petty, nasty, and bitter bitch that Nadia had become, it occurred to Dion, that he honestly couldn't have given any less of a fuck. While she was in a horrible situation, it wasn't Dion that had put her there. Dion appreciated her for the fact that she had taken care of him. However, in his eyes, all the spite and venom she had thrown his way for the past few years, more than made up for whatever debt he might have owed her. Looking at her as she struggled pathetically against him, he felt nothing. Not love or hate. Neither pity nor anger. He was simply indifferent to the very fact of her existence.
Without warning, Dion moved out of her way faster than she could readjust her balance. Nadia was lucky that the door behind Dion had remained open, otherwise, she would have run face-first into it. Dion didn't even turn around to see if she had succeeded in breaking her fall. He simply walked back to his room.
Discarding the towel almost as soon as the door had closed behind him, Dion walked over to his wardrobe to retrieve the clothes he would wear for the day. "So what now?" He asked without turning to look at Lythia.
"Now, you go to school and I get to sleep in," Lythia replied lazily without bothering to lift her head off the pillow.
